


Unintended

by nintendohime



Category: Final Fantasy IV
Genre: Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Gen, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-26 09:45:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5000038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nintendohime/pseuds/nintendohime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tellah dreams, sometimes, right after he tells the twins a bedtime tale and they're long asleep in whims of their own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unintended

**Author's Note:**

> ( Originally posted on FFN/written for the mount_ordeals LiveJournal community as a one-shot+drabble; edited slightly nine years later. )

He dreams, sometimes, right after he's begrudgingly told the Mysidian twins a bedtime saga of monsters and magic, and they're long asleep, illuminated by the vermilion-and-titian firelight of camp. The peaceful expression on Porom's face makes his heart knock down the stormy barrier of resentment; the pouting, determined look Palom holds forces the dark clouds aside and beckons his locked thoughts free from their ephemeral prison:

Sometimes, he dreams about his lost wife, Serafina. The Toroian-born woman dances in a ballroom full of mist, illuminated by the light of a red moon. Her long, lavender locks are in soft waves down her shoulders and she's usually wearing an exquisite gown to match. Often, she will approach him and reach for his withered hands, beckoning, pleading for him to dance with her. Tellah had never liked such an activity, though now he will do it, if only to see her spirit smile and laugh for one more carefully guarded memory.

Ultimately, though, he will see their daughter in his dreams. Sometimes, Anna will be a little girl, working tirelessly to perfect a fire spell. Other times, she will be in her teenaged years, questioning why she must perfect a lightning spell when she knew how to cast from the first tier already. Most often, however, she will be in a union gown of silk, white and gold, kissing her beloved Edward as the searing gem, the Crystal of Fire, blazes behind them in a backdrop of a mocking light.

Her beautiful dress resembles that damning color eventually, and she is dying once more in his arms, whispering a tearful farewell before moving to join her mother on the misty floor: _another life lost; another sin collected in a world of ire._

Tellah always forces himself to open his eyes then, so close to tears, ultimately to dwell on the 'what-ifs,' attempting yet another sojourn from reality. He wanted to rewrite the ending to his child's beginning; wanted to be there as the people of Damcyan throw rice at their newly wedded prince and princess, and spill forth the customary crimson petals into the arid desert wind. He wanted to be there, to take Anna's hand and whisper proudly into her ear how beautiful she looked, how her mother - musing above the two on a lofty cloud within the sun - would be proud, and how better off his progeny would be without him there to nag over her day and night. He would be eager for his grandchildren, instilling all of his knowledge of the arcane into their first-born and dying happily sans remorse.

In the Sage's dreams, the Red Wings never picked Damcyan as their second target because he had no ill-will to begin with: he accepts Prince Edward the Bard with open arms and, in turn, thanks the world for its many blessings he has sought to see so far. Sin and disgust are a thing carried away by the light of a baptism in fire, as broken tapestries are reworked, resewn with fresh colors to symbolize a prelude's end.

Watching the hazy gleam of a collected red, Tellah often drifts off to the one place where he can seek solace unabashed by the suspicion of his prying thoughts, only to be harshly awakened by a sleep-ragged Cecil, signifying the Paladin's watch of the camp coming to a close and the old mage's to begin.

As Tellah stands, ready to guard the perimeter with sharpened spectacles and slight of fingers (tingling with the anticipation of magic reclaimed), he always catches the divine warrior's eye before sneaking a glance at the twin prodigies: _Yes, I know; I should wake them up and catch up on rest myself. They're young yet and so far away from the wisdom I've gained..._

The old magician never will wake them, of course. He figures he should just let children be, before they grow up and run off into the world with whims and ideas of their own accords.


End file.
